


Informant

by Hormonal_Trashbag



Series: Reylo Fanfiction Tropes [2]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Awkward Kissing, F/M, Redeemed Kylo Ren, Reylo - Freeform, or at least the closest I can get to writing spies, really he's just trying, spy AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-12
Updated: 2016-10-23
Packaged: 2018-07-23 14:46:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7467420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hormonal_Trashbag/pseuds/Hormonal_Trashbag
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With Poe Dameron injured, someone needed to take his place to meet with an informant with data on the First Order. Rey decided to take his place with a single warning to prepare her, "Don't do anything reckless."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This...well, not exactly this, was requested by RAK as a trope. Sorry, I took a bit of a different direction than what you requested. The original prompt was "spy goes to a party and then they talk with the bad guy/girl."
> 
> Still, I hope you enjoy this!

Rey sat in her claimed crescent-shaped booth and waited. Her supposed contact should be making his appearance soon, and for some reason, this had her on edge. Though the drink she had ordered from the bar had been for show, she was tempted to take a few swallows, just to calm her nerves. Something felt off, and she wasn’t sure what it was, _yet._

All she could sense was that it had to do with her First Order informant. Luke would have encouraged her to search her feelings, or look to the Force for guidance, but neither of these were of any help when she was too wound up to properly focus. Instead she frowned at her rust- colored drink, glaring as she swirled the glass.

Her nervousness was all Poe’s fault, she silently decided. After a nasty dogfight over _Terram,_ Poe had managed to jump into hyperspace and get back to the Resistance base, but with damaged landing gear he was forced to make a crash landing. His injuries were thankfully non-lethal, but certainly grievous enough to have him taken off active duty for a few weeks. Now she was to go on his biweekly mission to meet with the informant, and Poe’s only advice had hardly been encouraging.

“Don’t do anything reckless,” he had said, and this had prompted a long series of questions that he refused to answer. Poe had simply insisted that it was all to further the Resistance’s cause. That mattered more than anything else.

Rey tapped her pointer finger on the grimy top of her circular table, listening to the soft clicks of her nail. She didn’t like that Poe had refused to tell her who she was meeting, and the longer she waited, the more she disliked it.

At length, she surrendered, snatching the glass up and taking a swift swig. The alcohol scorched her throat, and she had to resist the urge choke, but once the liquid fire slid into her stomach, she was thankful for the spreading warmth.

Rey breathed out a small sigh, barely wetting her lips with the second sip. She knew her own limits and she wasn’t going to traverse the easily crossed line into drunkenness. She had to remain sharp, in case there was an unexpected ambush and she needed to make a stand or slip off without being seen.

Still, she was a fraction more relaxed. She set down the glass and allowed her back to lean into the cushioned booth seat more comfortably.

A new patron entered that made Rey instantly regret those two sips of drink, the loose warmth of her belly, and even the way she sat. Poe should have told her, she inwardly snarled. She was completely unprepared to recognize that long, imposing figure and uncompromising gate, paired with clenched fists and a pale, narrow face that was now scarred.

She stood awkwardly in the dark-lit booth cursing, disbelief ripping through her.

He met her glare with a mix of astonishment and distaste, his full mouth drawing into a rigid line.

_Kylo Ren._

He paused no longer than a second, before veering towards her table. His hesitance was too short lived to be conspicuous.

Ren stole the seat opposite of her with a smooth grace that enraged her.

“Sit down before you start drawing attention,” he muttered.

She dropped to her backside hard enough to bounce in her seat, and to that he rolled his eyes. It was an action that Rey would have found amusing in different circumstances, but she didn't like it on him. The gesture seemed too human for a monster like Kylo Ren.

“Where is Dameron?” he asked under his breath, when she did nothing but stare.

She replied with a sneer. “Temporarily off active duty, thanks to the First Order.”

It was with great restraint that he breathed in and slowly exhaled through his nose.

“You can’t seriously make me believe that _you_ are feeding information to the Resistance,” she continued with a sharp tone.

“Keep your voice down-” he hissed back, face ducking forward- “or are you trying to get us both killed?”

Rey had to clamp down on the temptation to shoot forward and knock her head against his. She crossed her arms instead and when Ren fell back again, she followed suit.

“So,” she said with a conversational air, “did you kill Han because he was going to blow your cover? Or was it only _after_ you killed your own father that you decided to do the right thing?”

Rey watched as her own words carved into him, his face startlingly expressive in his anguish. It only lasted a moment before his jaw stiffened, his eyes becoming cold and hard once more. Still, she wasn’t sure she would ever be able to forget the look he had given her- one of absolute heartache. Guilt spasmed in her chest, though with determination she thought he deserved her judgement, if anyone ever did.

“I don’t have to explain myself to you,” he answered quietly.

She scoffed.

“Why would you even bother switching sides? You’ve made it pretty clear that you have no love for the Resistance, or your parents, for that matter.”

He roughly ran a bare hand through his thick hair, fingers hooked as he tried to gather himself.

“Look, none of that is any of your business. The fact--”

She interrupted with an indignant cry.

“Hush!” he snapped before whispering. “The fact is, I have Supreme Leader Snoke’s trust, and it’s only because of that I can even offer the Resistance worthwhile information.”

“Yeah, and I’m sure you earned that trust by murdering Han,” she mocked.

He glowered back at her. “Are you suggesting I not take advantage of the situation? I could find something that ends this war.”

Rey had nothing to say. Ultimately, he was right. It shouldn’t matter what he had done, because it had led him to a position of power over the First Order. One life shouldn’t have out-weighed the trillions of lifeforms that existed throughout the galaxy.

“Does your mother know?” she asked, though it was impossible to keep the shaking outrage from her voice.

He huffed, slumping back. “No, of course not. She would want to have me pulled, if she knew I was doing something so dangerous. As far as General Organa is concerned, the information is from a disgruntled officer.”

Rey was hardly satisfied. This wasn’t the Kylo Ren she had battled on Starkiller Base all those months ago. Something untouchable about him had changed, and she had no desire to see him as anything than the monster she had bested in the snow. He should face the punishment of what he had done, and Rey didn’t want to admit that he might have been doing just that by risking his life as an informant.

He saw her dissatisfaction and relented.

“Rey, I’m not asking you to like me, or even to stop hating me,” he murmured. “I took my father’s life with my own hands and that will haunt me until I die. I will never stop despising myself for what I’ve done--but that’s not the point. All I care about is getting the information I have to the right hands. Will you at least put up with me long enough to--”

Ren froze. His mouth clamped shut and she sensed it, too. Something was wrong. The corner of his eye tightened.

“Take your hair down,” he ordered brusquely, scooting along the curve of the table to sit uncomfortably close.

“What?”

Impatiently, he reached for her hair himself, carefully tugging at the ties that kept it in place.

“You ran all around Starkiller. Obviously, surveillance captured your face. The First Order has a bounty on your head.”

She swatted his hands away, freeing her hair easily, combing her locks with trembling fingers.

“Just taking my hair down isn’t going to help much, if my face is known,” she grumbled.

“It’ll help.”

She could smell the faint musk of aftershave, the earthiness of his skin. He wasn’t wearing the same thick robes as before, his clothing nondescript and thin, and Rey was suddenly all too aware of this. He was much too close, and sliding closer still so that she could feel the heat of his thigh as it pressed to hers.

“What are you planning?” she seethed.

He twisted in the seat so that his torso blocked her from view.

“Nothing you’re going to like,” he mumbled back, his palm smoothing along the edge of her jaw to cup her cheek.

Before she could tell him to elaborate, his lips were colliding with hers in a firm yet chaste kiss. She promptly squeaked.

His lips were softer than she expected. Belatedly, she realized she should tear her face away.

“Why--”

Ren’s mouth hovered over the shell of her exposed ear, his fanning breath eliciting a shiver from her.

“I’m saving our asses,” he groused. “Play along.”

Rey growled, but turned back.

His lips brushed gently against hers once more, and the hand that wasn’t caressing her face closed around her slender wrist, pulling it out from the space between them.

“Put your arms around my neck,” he said.

Stiff, she did as he commanded, though it meant being crushed to his broad chest. He curled his arm around the curve of her waist, and the warmth of his larger form seeped into her bones. She hated that she felt strangely safe.

It was without conscious thought that her arms lost all tension around his shoulders, fingers twisting into the curling ends of his silky, dark hair. She felt the thick muscles of his back flex.

“Rey,” he warned in a low voice, and she could taste the honey of his open mouth as she took a steep breath.

“Don’t say my name,” she chided, absentmindedly nipping at his lower lip. “Are they gone yet?”

“No,” he growled, and at first she simply thought he was frustrated with the unexpected third party, but the vibrations of his chest told a different story. Her eyes blurred as her stomach turned pleasantly. She raked trimmed nails into his scalp that sent gratified shudders through him, her lips skimming over his.

“You tread dangerous water,” he rumbled, fingertips squeezing the pliant flesh of her hip with a grip that would leave a trail of bruises.

Rey whined, and.. _.oh._

His face swerved to unfurl her innocent kiss, tongue rolling through the humid warmth of her mouth. He made eager, fierce sweeps through her until she was gasping for his touch.

She was dumbfounded when he whispered, “Start moving for the edge of the seat. We’ll go through the back door.”

Rey nodded with a dazed look, bewildered by her own lack of control. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder when they got to their feet, and she buried her face into his side as they creeped out as casually as they could. Embarrassed, Rey recognized that other patrons would assume they were off to continue elsewhere.

Once free of curious eyes, they parted, and it was with an abrupt, unsteady jolt they moved away from each other.

“Sorry,” he said, sounding far from apologetic and closer to obligatory.

Rey grimaced, only certain that her cheeks must have been flushed red with how they seared. He wasn’t paying attention to how she squirmed, however, instead looking every which way with darting glances.

“The location of the second Starkiller Base has been decided,” he finally informed her, once certain there was no one to overhear. “Construction in the _Bruma_ system will start soon, with Supreme Leader Snoke personally overseeing it.”

She swallowed, nodding her head. “Thank you.”

Ren huffed, “Yes, well, I’ll know a lot more in two weeks. I suppose I’ll be seeing you then.”

He quirked his lips into a small smirk.

“I suppose so,” she managed.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He's late.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After much harassment (I'm kidding!) I've decided to do a little bit of a continuation. Hopefully it lives up to the expectation. And don't worry, there will be at least one more chapter after this. 
> 
> Shout out for grlie-girl on tumblr, who was awesome enough to beta-read this. :)

When Rey had requested to take over his operation entirely, Poe had replied with a raised brow. It had only been because she wasn’t sure Ren could be trusted, and she would have a better chance sensing a betrayal through the Force than Poe would be able to with conventional means. Poe had taken it as it was--an excuse. He handed over the proverbial reins anyway, conceding when she had claimed a pilot should be in the sky. Let the scavenger try to dig up dirt, she had insisted. It was what she was best at.

It had been almost a year since that first meeting with Ren. He was both difficult to work with and not at all, and Rey still couldn’t fully adapt to his shifting moods. Never before had she met someone so _riddled_ with guilt as he was, and at first she had selected to believe that he deserved the self-loathing, after what he did to Han. Then she watched over the months as he constantly tore himself apart. He wasn’t obvious about it, but she could feel through the Force how he hated and regretted the horrifying part he had played in the death of his father. He wished so badly that he had followed his father home. In a way, he did. Unfortunately, he had chosen the painful, indirect path.

They met in different star systems, on different planets, in different seedy establishments--but to Rey, they all seemed the same. She sat in a dark corner, watching her obligatory glass of Corellian whisky swirl.

She waited. Ren was late.

He was never late.

Minutes ticked past and panic, hot and gaseous in her belly, rose to her throat as she sat in silence for an hour. The twi’lek running the bar took pity and brought her a second drink, assuming she had been flaked on. She now had two glasses to stare at instead of one; Rey would not drink while on the job. She had learned that lesson during their first rendezvous.

She shifted at the memory, crossing her legs. Ren hadn’t kissed her since then, not that she _wanted_ him to. It had only been a ploy to escape. He kept his distance, respectful to an extreme, and Rey was left to feel embarrassed for how she had reacted to him. He must have thought she was naive girl, a child still ruled by her hormones, but he never said a word.

A familiar, long figure entered the grim cantina, and Rey let out a long breath of air. Then she noticed the slight, awkward limp of his steps, and she nearly jumped up to help him.

_Stay there,_ his gaze spoke wonders to keep her in place.

He slumped into the seat opposite of hers. Without a word, he snatched one of the whiskeys and threw back his head as he downed it in one swig. Her lips parted in concern when he set the glass down with a resounding clink.

“Is that really wise?” she leaned in and whispered.

He untucked his shirt and reached for the second glass to pour it over a bloody scorch mark that stretched over his abdomen.

“Not only is it _wise,”_ he grumbled back, “it’s necessary.”

Rey’s gaze darted around the room, but they were of no interest to the drunken patrons. She scooted her chair closer to his, taking what was left of the whisky and placing it onto the tabletop, then retrieving a small tube of bacta from the leather pouch at her hip.

“Have you been compromised?” she asked in a low tone.

Ren collapsed further into his seat as she dabbed bacta onto burnt skin with her pointer and middle fingers.

“No,” he sighed. “I just had another bout of training, courtesy of my master.”

Her treatment halted for only a moment. “Your _master_ did this to you?”

Ren didn’t speak of Supreme Leader Snoke often, besides the relevant information she needed to feed the Resistance. She had known Ren was his apprentice, but it simply hadn’t been discussed. It was a dangerous topic, for more reason than one.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he huffed. “I’ve had to lick my wounds too many times to count now. This was actually a minor one.”

She pursed her lips at the teasing endearment. Rey had bigger concerns, though. Even if this was considered normal for him, she couldn’t shake the feeling that he was in bigger danger than he was willing to admit.

“We should get you out of there,” she said. Before he wound up dead.

He shook his head. “I can’t do that. The First Order is expediting construction and has enslaved an entire civilization to do it. You’re going to need me on the inside, when it’s time to take their weapon down.”

_“Ren,”_ she hissed, glaring at him.

“Listen to me,” he breathed, “you’ll never be able to stop them unless you take out leadership and their new technological terror simultaneously. How are you supposed to plan a joint strike without someone on the inside?”

Rey was silent for a moment. She capped the tube of bacta and watched him lift his hips from the chair to tuck his shirt back in. He fell back into the seat with a small, pained groan.

“I’m worried,” she admitted quietly.

His expression softened. “I wish you wouldn’t,” he said.

She sucked her lower lip into her mouth, teeth clamping down.

“How is my mother doing?”

Rey tried to smile. “Well. She doesn’t let up, even for a moment. I think if she could, she would march right up to that General Hux and strangle him with her own hands.”

He gave a wet laugh. “I’ll be sure to take him into custody, then.”

Ren straightened his back, and she knew what that meant. He gave the establishment a cursory glower before turning back to her.

“At the current rate of construction, the First Order will be fully operational again in three weeks. Make sure my mother is ready before then, because the Resistance will be their first target. They don’t have your location yet, but it won’t take them long to find it. _Be careful.”_

He said the last part with a sharp, meaningful look. Rey needed a moment to process his information. They were so _close_ to the end. General Organa was still amassing a starfleet, but they had the numbers needed to make an attack on the new Starkiller.

She swallowed. “And you--”

“As soon as the airstrike begins, I’ll round up the officers. Snoke won’t be expecting a thing,” he said. He was trying to look brave about the situation, but she saw the gleam of sadness in his dark eyes. “I’m not going to be able to get away again, so this is the last bit of information I’ll be able to give you. I’m trusting you to get the Resistance ready.”

She blinked repeatedly. This was it. She might never see him again, even if the operation was successful, and he _did_ survive. He reached into his jacket to grab a data chip. His hand was warm as it took hers, placing the chip into the center of her palm and then curling her fingers around its sharp edges.

“It took some time to get it, but this is a copy of the technical read-out. Don’t get caught with it, or you’ll be killed on the spot.”

Rey stared at their hands, his larger one still securely wrapped around hers. She opened her mouth to speak, but words failed her, and she shut it again. Her throat ached and her eyes burned, and she couldn’t say why.

“Can you do all this?” he asked.

Her voice cracked when she spoke. “Yes, I got it.”

She tilted her head forward in shame. Why couldn’t she stop the tears from coming? She closed her eyes as moisture spilled into her lap. Gently, he placed her hand onto the table, and _oh,_ she felt like such a fool! Here she was, crying over a man she had dueled and bickered with, and _kissed_ \--no, she couldn’t think about that. That hadn’t been a real kiss. It was ridiculous to even think of it.

“Rey,” he murmured, gripping her chin when she would not look at him. “Please don’t, not for someone like me.”

She wanted to scream at him. If not for him, then who else was there for her to cry for? She shook her head, but he tipped her face up towards him.

“You have to promise not to die,” she sniffed. “I don’t _care_ if you think you deserve to. You absolutely cannot die.”

“I can’t promise that.”

“Too bad,” she said, rubbing her eyes with the hem of her sleeve. “You’re not allowed.”

He laughed, but she could see the glossiness behind his gaze.

“I love you,” he said. “Did you know that?”

Rey nearly choked on air. She gawked at him dumbly, unable to form even one decent response or gesture to show she had heard him. Her cheeks burned, but there was no sense in hiding it, especially considering how red _his_ face was.

He likely had never uttered those words to anyone outside his torn family, and Rey couldn’t recall the last person to have said them to her. Part of her doubted anyone had ever said them to her at all.

When she could only stare, he began to ramble. “I loved you since the moment we met. I’ll never forget the way your lips pulled together in a fierce, little frown as you shot at me. It was one of the most beautiful things I had ever seen. And _maker--”_ he sighed dramatically, “--the way you can make me feel like a laser-brained ass. It’s infuriating and I hope it never changes.”

“Why are you telling me this now?” she croaked.

He smiled at her, but it did nothing to comfort Rey. He leaned towards her, lips brushing against her forehead.

“If I don’t now, there’s a very good chance I’ll never be able to,” he said, inhaling the scent of her floral shampoo, lips pressing more firmly to her skin.

Ren loved her. He _loved_ her. Her joy at this knowledge was trampled by fear of the unknown. She wanted to slide her palm along the edge of his jaw and guide his mouth to hers, to at least have the taste of his breath to haunt her memories, but all too soon, he was standing to depart.

She became startled. “Ren--”

“Please,” he interrupted. “Whatever happens, please stay safe.”

He promptly turned and stalked away in his uncomfortable, long-limbed gait. The longer their meetings lasted the more dangerous they became, but Rey knew he wasn’t trying to avoid that threat. He was running from _her_. Fury and hurt scalded the back of her throat like acid.

Rey didn’t think twice about it. If he was going to whisk himself away, then she had no other option than to give chase. It didn’t matter that she had never followed him out before. She stood quickly enough for her chair to skid across the floor in a screech.

She dashed through the blast doors, yelling, “Wait!”

Ren looked back at her in shock.

“You can’t just do that!” she seethed, marching towards where he stood fixed in place. “You can’t just tell me... _that_ and then disappear forever before I can say anything back!”

“Rey,” he said, his tone meant to placate, “you’re going to attract attention.”

“I don’t _care,”_ she snarled, winding an arm around his neck and bending him towards her with force.

It was nothing like their previous kiss; their two faces crashing together with a crack of pain, but he returned her roughness with pleasant flicks of his tongue, his arms tentatively slipping around the delicate divots of her waist.

He slowed her desperation with a soft, satisfied sigh, coaxing her lips to respond with caresses rather than aggressive nips, and she savored the whiskey taste that lingered in his mouth.

“I really mean what I said,” Rey panted into his parted lips. She trailed her open mouth over the slope of his chin, tongue laving at pale skin as it moved along his jaw. “You can’t die. If you do, I’ll bring you back to life just to kill you myself.”

She lightly punished the lobe of his ear, closing her teeth around it to suck.

His chuckle was from deep in his chest; she felt it reverberate against her. “You’re always so stubborn and demanding. I love that about you, too.”

Rey gasped when he turned his face into the dip of her throat, teeth scraping lightly at the sensitive skin. His tongue was hot and moist as it lashed at her, soothing faint abrasions. A moment later, and his lips were back on hers, ravaging.

“I’m not going to give my answer until you come back alive,” she mumbled. “That’s the deal. If you don’t, I’ll never say, not for as long as I live. I’ll be on my deathbed, surrounded by my great-grandchildren, and they’ll ask me about the stupid hero that saved the galaxy, and I still won’t say.”

He laughed, cupping either of her cheeks with warm hands to deliver a last, sloppy kiss.

“I’ll do my best, sweetheart,” he said, and Rey understood that was the best he could do.

It would never be good enough.

She let him go when he pulled away this time. She would see him again, she determined, if only because the consequences of dying were too steep for him. He was stubborn, too.

Rey pivoted about to return to her ship.

She had a mission to complete and a war to end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! :) Feedback is appreciated.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I promised...a quicker update than last time. ;) Shout out to my awesome beta: you're the best, grlie-girl!

It had been a week since the destruction of the First Order and a month since Ren had said he loved her. She knew he wasn’t dead--she could sense it through the Force. It was infuriatingly agonizing having to wait. Rey wanted to leave the celebrations and seek him out, but something intangible kept her in place. She stayed, so long as he found his way back to her. She knew he would.

He _had_ to.

Rey hadn’t looked for him on Starkiller. His job had been to deal with leadership, while Rey had been given a duty as equally important: disabling the shields and causing as much havoc as possible to the inner, mechanical workings of the planetary weapon. The technical read-out on the data chip Ren had given her had proved very useful, especially since she had to travel between different stations as discreetly as possible. She had been able to slash her way through lines of cable, rendering the base vulnerable to attack, but it took much longer than she had originally anticipated.

Rey had wanted to join him in facing Supreme Leader Snoke. She had hoped to help him vanquish his master, though she understood why Ren needed to face him alone. It was his fight, not hers. She knew when Snoke had fallen, she had felt it in the Force, but nothing of Ren. He was just a little blip of lingering light on her senses, too stubborn to fade.

She smiled towards Finn, who was busy chugging ale with a group of pilots from Poe’s squadron. He was ecstatic at the First Order’s defeat, and Rey was happy to see him celebrate wholeheartedly for what was likely the first time in his life.

She felt foolish, thinking of Ren when all her friends were rejoicing at the galaxy’s new freedom. He might not have promised to return for her in so many words, but Ren had told her he would try. It had to be enough.

There was a tap on her shoulder and Rey turned to be greeted by a grinning Poe. In his hand was an offering of moonshine Snap had distilled in his room. It was the same moonshine General Organa had pretended not to see when Snap had carted it out. She accepted the bottle, sipping rather than taking a good swig, as Poe did when she handed it back.

“How was our mutual friend the last time you saw him?”

“Alive,” she replied quietly.

Poe nodded, corking the bottle, for which she was thankful. She had accepted the initial offering to be polite, but alcohol didn’t hold much appeal. Rey had no interest in losing her inhibitions.

“And his current status?”

“Still alive,” Rey said, “but I can’t sense much more beyond that.”

Poe leaned with her against the wall, glancing over at her from the corner of his eye. She huffed, crossing her arms when he said nothing in response. The knowledge that he was hesitating to say something pricked in a dark corner of her skull.

“Spit it out,” she said after a few moments more of silence.

He laughed, and Rey felt the tension leave her at the easy sound of his voice. “Sorry, I guess nothing gets past you.”

“That’s right,” she quirked a smile.

Poe gave her a knowing look. “I may not be a Jedi, but something tells me you’re waiting for him.”

Rey sighed, wondering when she had become so obvious. “I _am_ waiting for him.”

His voice was jovial as he continued to say, “You have feelings for him.”

She rolled her eyes at Poe, gaze landing on him pointedly. “I’ve been working with him for an entire year. Of course I feel something for him.”

“Ah, ah, ah,” he wagged his finger at her, expression teasing. “That’s not what I’m talking about, and you know it.”

Rey gnawed at the inside of her cheek, wincing when she picked with her teeth too roughly and tasted the salty tang of blood. She was going out of her mind about this, so perhaps talking to someone would help. Poe did not show any objection to her interest, though she knew that wouldn’t have mattered all too much in the long run. She prodded at where her cheek continued to bleed with her tongue.

“Fine,” she said, leveling him with a look. “I’m worried. I know he’s still alive, but he hasn’t reached out at all. I don’t understand why he would stay away when he’s the one that saved the whole kriffing galaxy. What does he think will happen to him?”

Poe patted her shoulder, and she took what comfort she could from the gesture. “Not very many people know what he did. Just you, me, and--”

Rey gasped. “You _didn’t!”_

“She’s his mother, Rey,” Poe raised his hands in defense. “She was upset when Starkiller blew. She couldn’t be sure if he was dead or alive, and she felt guilty for wondering. What was I supposed to do? The general deserves to be happy, too.”

He was right, but she frowned anyway. “He’s not going to like this. He wasn’t sure that he wanted her to _ever_ know.”

“Tough,” Poe snorted. “If he wanted to be the one to tell her, he shouldn’t have let her wait so long.”

She shook her head, pursing her lips to keep a smile from breaking. “I’m telling him you said that.”

 _“Please,”_ he wriggled his eyebrows at her, “I bet his hands are going to be so full taking care of you that he won’t care how she found out. Don’t pretend it isn’t true.”

Rey slapped his shoulder. “Don’t be gross,” she laughed.

“Ahem.”

They both straightened their backs as they met the inquisitive gaze and raised brow of General Organa. Poe tucked the bottle of moonshine behind himself with a grin, clearly intending to keep up the charade that she somehow _didn’t_ know copious amounts of illegally obtained alcohol was making its rounds about base.

Rey cleared her throat, face aflame at the thought of what she might have overheard. “Good evening, General.”

General Organa smiled. “Rey, I was hoping I’d be able to find you,” she glanced about the hall of rowdy pilots and huffed a small chuckle to herself. “Would you be willing to take a little walk with me?”

She blinked back in surprise. When she didn’t immediately answer, Poe nudged her side with his elbow. She hissed at him with a glare, before turning back to the General, who was carefully studying her face.

“Yes, of course,” she uttered back, bewilderment seasoning her tone with something akin to dread.

She followed General Organa from the rambunctious partiers, treading with a slow pace as she was guided down the hall.

“Ben was such a sweet, affectionate child. When he left us, it broke my heart. I feared he would never return home, or that if he did, he wouldn’t have a reason to stay.”

Rey remained mute, uncertain of how she was expected to respond.

The General was unbothered by her silence. “When Poe told me what he’s done for the Resistance, I felt hope for the first time in years. I always knew there was good in him, that even Snoke couldn’t crush that completely. But after so much time passed, I feared the worst. After Han passed, I was so certain I would never see my son again.”

They turned down another corridor, seemingly at random, and Rey doubted they had any destination.

“I don’t think anyone will ever know how proud I am of what he did,” General Organa said wistfully, her gaze light-years away.

Rey spoke at last. “He’s afraid to face you.”

“He should be, but if what I’ve heard is true, his fear of me won’t keep him away for too long. Not when he has such a lovely young woman waiting for him.”

“General--”

General Organa waved her hand, hushing her. “There’s no need to be so embarrassed. I know it’s hard to imagine it, but I was young once, too. My son was beautiful as a boy, and I’m certain he’s grown to be an attractive man.”

They swerved down a new hallway, and Rey endured the temptation to bury her face in her hands without giving in. She instead stared down at her boots, unable to look in the other woman’s direction. She couldn’t determine exactly what General Organa wanted of her--an admission of her feelings towards Ren?

She was a mother who longed for her son, who had never met him as a grown man, and might not recognize him if she did. Rey pitied the General then; if anyone understood the pain of being separated from family, it was her. Perhaps all she wanted was to know what her son was like, and Rey was the last one to see him.

“I wouldn’t describe him as sweet,” Rey murmured at last, “but he’s respectful. He might be affectionate, if you consider stupid pet names and teasing to be a way of showing affection.”

General Organa barked a wet, startled laugh. “Pet names?”

“He only does it to irritate me. Mostly things like sunshine or sweetheart, if he’s feeling especially annoying. He knows how much I hate it, but he doesn’t give up.”

Rey didn’t dare say that she prayed he never did.

She didn’t notice that General Organa was lagging behind until she spoke, and her voice came from behind.

“He got that from Han,” the General said, voice strained with grief. “One of the first things that old pirate called me was sweetheart.”

Rey turned around to look back at General Organa, but she was already walking again, shaking the memories of her husband free from her head. Rey nearly apologized for bringing up something that quite obviously still caused the General pain, but she never had the chance.

General Organa was smiling once more as she asked, “Did my son tell you he would return?”

“Only that he would try--”

Rey snapped her mouth shut, freezing in the middle of the corridor. Her head jerked to the side and above, to a ship she couldn’t see, but sense instead. His presence was much closer than it had been in the month since their last rendezvous, and she knew he was aboard that incoming ship, returned at last.

“Rey?” General Organa tried to break her from her reverie, but Rey’s mouth couldn’t form words with meaning. “Are you alright?”

Unable to speak, she broke into a run instead. She tore through the many long hallways, rushing for the hangar. She gasped for breath as she forced herself to run faster, and even that wasn’t nearly fast enough. The only words she had on the tip of her tongue was for him, and as she sensed him nearer and nearer, they pleaded to be said.

She made it in time to see a badly abused Upsilon-class shuttle make its final descent, but she didn’t slow her approach. He barely had the opportunity to step from the onramp and onto the tarmac before she was colliding with him at full speed, knocking them both over in a heap of limbs.

He was warm and solid beneath her, and she wrapped her arms around his neck as he sighed, as equally contented by her presence as she was by his.

Panting against his lips, grinning like mad, she finally had a response for him. “I love you too, even if you _are_ a laser-brained ass.”

He alternated between laughing and kissing, but Rey didn’t care. He was back in her arms, right where he belonged.

“Sorry for the delay, sweetheart,” he mumbled, right hand coming up to stroke her cheek.

She turned her lips into the palm of his gloved hand, holding it to her face as she nuzzled closer, so pleased that this was her reality. Without another thought, she tugged his glove off, longing for the touch of his skin. He remained incredibly still when she peeled leather away to meet artificial digits instead of flesh and bone.

“You’ve been hurt!” she hissed, jolting away from his prone form, afraid to press her weight to any wound. Instantly, Rey made sense of his absence. “How bad is it?”

His lips parted, but Rey was too impatient for words. She glided her hand from his wrist, feeling the mechanics under his clothing, waiting to meet human flesh. She grew increasingly alarmed as she reached the crook of his elbow and then all the way up his manufactured bicep, not finding _him_ until she reached the round of his shoulder. He had lost an entire arm, a final toll from his master.

“It’s been healed,” he said at length, following her up into a seated position. “If that’s the price for victory, I can’t complain.”

Considering he had expected death, Rey couldn’t disagree. Overwhelmed, she tugged him gently by the collar, leading his mouth to hers, arms around him once more. They kissed on the tarmac, her kneeling between his legs and the world nearly forgotten.

“I’m just glad you’re safe. That’s all that matters to me right now,” she breathed against him, fingers clenching the wild curls at the nape of his neck.

He shuddered a gasp at the careful scrape of her blunt nails, shifting the angle of his face to run his sharp nose along the curve of her jaw. His full, moist lips nipping and sucking as it followed, peppering her throat with small points of brilliant red. He had no clever, sly comment to make when he reached her ear. Instead he exhaled slowly through his nose, spreading warm air over her hair and sensitive skin.

“Ben,” the soft, relieved voice of the General called to them.

They both jerked in surprise, Rey so startled by the interruption that she fell to her backside.

He crushed his lips to her forehead as if the gesture gave him strength, standing before the effect began to wane and he lost courage. He then helped to pull Rey to her feet. When she tried to retreat with grace so that mother and son could speak privately, he tugged her close to him, one broad arm encircling her shoulders.

“Mother,” he answered, eyes darting about the empty hangar, finding no blasters aimed towards him.

“You _told,”_ he chided, but his tone was light, his amusement plain. Though he wouldn’t admit it, he was glad the General knew.

 _“Poe_ told,” Rey corrected. “I had nothing to do with it.”

He huffed a quiet laugh, and it sounded like _home._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I'm not sure if I'll write another chapter for this, so if not, thank you for all the support on this fic! It's been a pleasure to write. :)

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! As always, feedback is appreciated. :)


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